A Chance at Love
by darknessmolded
Summary: After the final battle Harry has lost everything including his soul mates. In his desperate grief Harry accidently transports himself to an alternate universe. Warning: Yaoi slash RemusSiriusHarry
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other character you recognize they all belong to J.K. Rowling.

He stumbles almost going down but at the last moment regains his balance and continues doggedly on. He does not know what he tripped over whether it was a broken tree branch or a body part. He does not care, he cannot care. If he allows himself to care then he will have to remember the glassy eyes of his dead friends or see the carnage that surrounds him.

Once more he stumbles and this time he is unable to save himself. He lands hard but does not even try to brace himself. A sharp pain shoots throughout his chest telling him he has broken a few ribs but he can barely feel it past the shock.

He pushes himself up but stops as he meets the once beautiful amber eyes of the last family member he had had. The wall of shock that had protected him for the better part of the night as he had wandered around the battle field in a daze shatters and he screams as he clutches the dead body of Remus Lupin.

He screams in loss until his throat is torn and bloody and yet it still is not enough as the images of the bodies of his family and friends flash before his eyes. All he can do is clutch the body to his chest as he rocks back and forth hoping that this is a nightmare and that he will wake up to find his friends and family alive once more.

'What is the point of defeating Voldemort if there is no one alive but me to enjoy it,' he wanders in despair. As he rocks the body back and forth his magic heals the damage done to his body and once more he is able to scream in an effort to relieve the despair building within him.

He has no idea how long this pattern continues as he screams himself raw and his magic heals him but finally he falls into an exhausted sleep from which he hopes never to wake.

A white glow surrounds him as his magic tries to not only repair the damage done to his body but in some way start the healing on his spirit. The light intensifies until finally it fades from the world and with it the young man who had lost so much and fought so bravely.

A cold breeze blows through the battle field ruffling the hair and clothes of the dead and heralding the first snow fall of winter. A few days later what was left of the British Ministry of Magic finally came to see what had happened at the final battle after it had become obvious that Voldemort was not going to come and kill them all. The carnage they had found had sent them reeling and many of the younger members had been sick.

Finally the bodies had been cleared from what had once been a mighty school and the dead identified. The light wizards at the final battle were given the Order of Merlin First Class post-humorously while the Death Eaters were put in a communal grave never to be thought of again. The wizarding world had begun to search for their missing savior but the Boy-Who-Lived had disappeared and soon after the last battle the wizarding world choose to forget and move on. Never to remember the heroes who had died that day except in the pages of dusty history books.

Author's Note:

Sorry it is so short I have a lot more written and will be updating as soon as possible. Words of encouragement are always welcome.


	2. The Arrival

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and if you think I do then you may want to go for a check up.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pain throbs through his head bouncing back and forth between his temples causing him to groan. Harry blinks blurrily wondering where he is and why his head hurts so bad. Memories of the final battle come to him but they are vague as though they had happened a very long time ago or to someone else.

He still grieves for those who had followed him and helped him defeat Voldemort but now the pain is at least bearable instead of the all encompassing pain of before. Taking a deep breath to steady himself he climbs slowly to his feet and accessing his condition he frowns. His battle clothes are tattered and blood stained though his skin is smooth and unblemished.

He glances into the trash bin further down in the alley and can tell from the unmoving pictures that he must be in the muggle world. He starts to turn away when the date on the paper catches his eye and he turns back snatching the paper out of the bin. He stares at the paper for a full ten minutes unable to process what he is seeing. The date on the paper is Oct. 19, 1995 but he knows that it had been July, 2001.

The paper is in good condition and there is no way it could be almost 6 years old. He wonders if he has gone back in time and begins to panic slightly but with an effort he pushes the feeling down deciding to wait and see exactly what is going on before he starts panicking.

Deciding that that sounds like a good idea he waves his hand transforming a stone in the alley into a pair of jeans and another into a black t-shirt. After obscuring the alley from any prying eyes he slips out of his dirty clothes and cleans himself with magic before slipping into his transfigured clothes. He makes sure to lock the spell on the transfigured clothes so no one but him can break the spell then drops the obscuring spell on the alley.

After a moments thought he transfigures another stone into a red band which he ties around his forehead to hide his scar and at the same time hold back his hair. He allows his bangs to frame his face in a way that he knows accent his face nicely. He thanks Hermione for convincing him to grow his hair out and to get his eyes corrected with muggle surgery. He had not really cared about his looks but he had to admit without his bulky glasses and with the long hair he did look good without looking feminine. Also more importantly he had stopped looking like a clone of James Potter. Now someone would really have to look to know he was James Potter's son.

His heart clenches at the thought of Hermione and the way Ron used to tease him that he would be jumped by love crazed fans with his new look. He quickly pushes the hurt down but knows he will have to deal with it later. He steps out into the quiet streets and realizes that it must be sometime in the early morning.

He can see that he is back in London and is glad that he did not end up in some place like New York or Hong Kong. At least he knows how to find his way around here; he would have been totally lost in either of those places.

Gaining his bearings he makes his way to the leaky cauldron and despite the late hour no one bothers him as life on the street has taught them to recognize a predator when they see one.

It is dawn before he finally reaches the street outside the Leaky Cauldron. He could have called the Night Bus but he has no money with him and he does not want any one to recognize him before he has figured out what has happened.

The moment he walks into the pub every eye turns to him eyeing him suspiciously and he nearly backs out the door to make sure he is in the right place. He knew people had become more cautious since Voldemort's second rise but this is ridiculous. He half expects the few early patrons to draw their wands on him.

His hand itches for the feel of his wand as he forces himself to walk to the bar but unfortunately his wand had been destroyed a few months before the final battle and he had been unable to get another since Olivander and most of the other wand makers had disappeared. It hadn't really mattered since he had found that he could use wandless magic better than most wizard's could use wand magic but it still was comforting to have the warm wood in his hand when facing danger.

Barring his wand he would at least like to have one of his knives in hand but he had no idea where they had ended up after the final battle. He notices Tom watching him cautiously and gives him a friendly smile to reassure him.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but could you let me in to Diagon Alley," he asks politely. Tom studies him for a moment then smiles kindly and asks genuine concern in his voice "Sure but shouldn't you be with your parents, kid. These are dangerous times."

Harry stares at him then looks past him to look at the bar mirror for a moment. He has to admit he does look like he is about fifteen.

"Sir, I am twenty-one," Harry tells him and Tom stares at him in disbelief causing Harry to laugh.

"I promise I'm not lying I just look young for my age," Harry tells him with an amused smile.

"Well…if you'll follow me I'll let you through to the alley," Tom tells him and Harry follows him obediently.

"By the way my name is Tom."

Harry blinks then thinking quickly he says holding out his hand "Oh, sorry. How rude I should have introduced myself. My name is Alexander Michaels."

Tom shakes his hand saying "It is a pleasure to meet you, Alexander."

He taps the third brick on the left and as the wall moves away Harry, now Alex, says "It is a pleasure to meet you too, Tom, and please just call me Alex. No one calls me Alexander."

"Alright. Have a good one, Alex," Tom says waving as the stone wall closes after him. Harry stares around the alley and is surprised to see that it is much busier than the last time he had been here only a few short weeks ago. Of course if it is 1995 then this would be about the level of traffic he should expect. He notices that people do still seem a little edgy.

Alex makes his way through the crowd toward Gringotts wanting to access his account and then have a private conference with one of the head goblins. For some reason he has a feeling that this is more than him having accidentally gone back in time. Tom had seen him enough that even with his scar covered he should have recognized him and yet he had not shown the slightest sign of knowing who he was.

He knows no one could have modified Tom's memory over such a large stretch of time as their association with each other without permanently damaging his mind. Even an Imperious curse would not be able to cover up the fact that Tom had had his memory damaged so a major memory charm was out. That left the fact that this Tom seemed to have never met him.

Slipping easily through the crowds he makes his way up the street and can soon see the steps of Gringotts. He is surprised to see several armed goblin guards by the doors scanning those entering the bank with an unfriendly air. Not even in his time had the goblins had to resort to such tactics. Sure they had always had guards posted, usually quite a few, but never had they been visible or so heavily armed.

Moving quietly past the steely faced guards he notices a shimmer of magic, very much like the shimmer of heat over the ground on a hot day, and looking past it sees several hidden guards.

The visible guards, he realizes, are just for show and to give a sense of security to the bank's customers while the hidden guards are the real security for the bank. As he passes he meets the eyes of one of the hidden guards and sees his eyes widen as he realizes he can see him. Alex nods his head slightly before passing through the doors and moving to stand in one of the shorter lines.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the goblin whose eyes he had met move to a spot within the bank where he can watch him. A moment later another goblin joins him and they talk for a moment with the door guard gesturing vehemently toward him. Alex knows he probably shouldn't have let them know he could see through the disillusionment charm but it was to late now.

As the lady in front of him moves away from the counter with her children he steps up and the goblin at the counter looks up at him with a scowl.

"What can I do for you," the goblin asks with a growl. Alex simply smiles at the goblin's surly attitude and says in gobbledegook "Good day. I would like to speak with an account manager."

The goblin blinks once then again staring at him like he has grown another head. Alex resists the urge to laugh as the goblin in gobbledegook asks "You speak gobbledegook."

"Quite," Alex says in the same language and the goblin realizing how foolish he looks closes his mouth and summons another goblin to show him to an account manager's office.

Alex nods politely to the goblin behind the desk then follows the other goblin who he had heard called Ragrock. Ragrock leads him through a maze of corridors and his self appointed goblin guard from the door follows a little ways behind not making any effort to hide except for the concealing charm he still wears.

Finally they stop at a large wooden door and after knocking politely and being bade to enter Ragrock opens the door and bows Alex in saying politely "Manager Icktin." The door guard moves to follow him but Alex quickly turns to pin him with his stare saying politely but firmly in gobbledegook "I would appreciate privacy while I go over my account with Manager Icktin."

The goblin stares at him hard for a second before bowing slightly before moving back to take up a guard position near the door. Poor Ragrock looks absolutely shocked that he can speak the goblin language let alone see the disillusioned guard. Passing the shocked goblin he enters the office shutting the door behind him.

The goblin behind the desk, presumably Manager Icktin, smiles in what is a friendly way for goblins and stands up coming around the desk. "Good day young sir. You have caused quite a stir. It is rare for a human to speak our language but almost unheard of for one to be able to see through our magic. You shall be the talk of the bank."

"I trust that any talk shall remain within the walls of the bank," Alex says as he shakes the manager's hand.

"Of course. All information about our customers is strictly confidential," Icktin reassures him. Alex nods and Icktin asks all business "What can I do for you today Mr….."

"It is Alexander Michaels and I need to find out if I have any accounts already established at this bank," Alex tells him and Icktin raises an eyebrow in question. Alex knows he must be wondering at his wording. After all if he already had an account here then he must surely know about it. To his credit Icktin does not question him on it just simply pulls out a beautiful glass pen and a sharp steel knife.

"If you will, you need to let a drop of your blood fall on the pen and it will write out a list of the accounts you have and if you have ever accessed those accounts before," Icktin tells him as he holds out the dagger to him hilt first. Alex accepts it but for a moment just holds it while he stares at Icktin.

"I must ask you a question first if you don't mind," Alex asks and Icktin looks at him expectantly. Laying the dagger down on the desk Alex takes off his head band and moving aside his hair asks "Does this scar mean anything to you."

Icktin leans forward to stare at his lightening shaped scar for several long moments then finally shakes his head. "I am afraid it means nothing to me except that you were hit sometime in the past by a rather nasty curse."

Alex nods outwardly calm but inwardly he is in turmoil. He replaces his head band automatically wondering what has happened. Everyone knew of his scar in the wizarding world and yet his magic tells him that Icktin is not lying. Icktin honestly has no idea what his scar means which means he cannot be in the wizarding world or at least his wizarding world.

The only thing that he can think of as he pricks his finger and lets a drop of blood fall onto the glass pen is that he must have somehow ended up in a parallel universe. He watches as the pen absorbs his blood glowing a brilliant white as it starts to skim against the paper.

The idea of a parallel universe seems insane and yet it makes sense of why Tom did not recognize him and why Icktin did not recognize his scar. He does not know how he got here but as he watches the pen slowly fade he realizes that this may be the chance he needs. There is nothing left for him in his old world and maybe in this world he can start over. He knows he will have to deal with the pain of losing all his friends and family eventually but for right now something seems to be blocking the pain and giving him the power to keep going.

As the pen begins to fade and stop writing Icktin grabs it before it can fall to the desk. After replacing it in his drawer he looks at the paper then stares at it seeming unable to believe what he is seeing. Finally he looks up at Alex and says in a shocked voice "Congratulations Mr. Potter you have just become our richest customer."

Alex blinks at him in astonishment then registers what he said. "Please I prefer to go by Alexander Michaels and what do you mean I have just become one of your richest customers."

"Not one of the richest, the richest Mr. Michaels," Icktin tells him and at his continued confused look he hands over the piece of parchment on which his accounts are recorded.

Alex scans the list then scans it again shocked at the number of properties he owns or is heir to. Among them is the Potter estate though he notices with a flutter of his heart that he is just the heir to these and that one James Potter is currently the Lord Potter.

He is also the heir to Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin among other small family estates. He rereads the list again unable to believe that he has just inherited so much. He especially is shocked that he is considered the heir of Slytherin. For a few minutes he just sits there looking over the list but finally he shakes himself out of his thoughts. From the sheet he can see that he had not inherited any of these estates from the Potter or Evans line though it does not state specifically from which line it does come through.

He figures he must have inherited the estates from his creature inheritance. He frowns slightly as he realizes how little he actually knows about the creature as its dieing act had given him to the Potters as their son even before he was born. His mother, or at least his bearer since he/she had not been clearly male or female, had tied him and the Potters together as a family that day.

By blood he was the Potter's son yet he had kept his creature inheritance even though neither of his human parents had had any non-human blood. On his seventeenth birthday the spells which his bearer had placed on him so that he would be born seemingly human had faded allowing his creature inheritance to come to the fore.

He had had no idea what was happening at the time but almost immediately after his powers had been unleashed he had fallen into a magical sleep in which he had had a vision of his bearer's last moments and how Lily Potter had agreed to carry him and care for him as her own son. He had watched in astonishment as his bearer had laid his/her hand on his mother's stomach and his/her own. A bright light had engulfed them both and then died down. As the glow had died the light had also left his bearer's eyes. He had never found out if his mother had told his father about how he came about nor how his bearer had become so injured nor even what species he was.

He had quickly learned how to disguise his creature traits and had decided not to tell anyone about what had happened until after the war. Unfortunately there had been no one left after the war for him to tell. Alex quickly pulls himself from these depressing thoughts as he feels the wall which had been blocking the memories of his past threaten to crack.

Focusing once more on the list of properties in order to take his mind off of his memories he almost forgets to breath as he takes in the total amount of galleons he has. He had not thought there were that many galleons in all the wizarding world.

He hands the paper back to Icktin who has been gathering several files and folders together while he has been deep in thought. Icktin places the paper in a folder on the top of the stack then with a tap of his knuckles the stack of folders float into a stone cabinet which seems to grow from the wall to accept the folders before disappearing once more into the wall with its contents.

"I have prepared a detailed list of your new properties and assets and have taken the liberty of getting you a money pouch that will allow you and only you to withdraw funds from your accounts. All you have to do is think of the amount you wish to withdraw and it will appear in your money pouch. However you will not be able to withdraw money from any of the accounts to which you are an heir unless the main owner of the account gives you permission first. Is there anything else that I can do for you, Mr. Michaels," Icktin asks him politely.

"Yes, please just call me Alex and I was wondering if you knew anywhere that I could get a history of the last twenty years or so and the papers from that time as well," Alex asks just as politely. "Also I was wondering if you would mind taking on the job of being my account manager?"

"I would be pleased to be your account manager and if you would like you would be free to use the banks historic records. We keep a detailed record of the events of both the muggle and magical world. You will also find that our records are usually less biased than the wizarding world's records though we do still have every edition of the majoring wizarding world's newspapers dating back to each paper's individual founding. I will have the guard who followed you here take you to the history room," Icktin tells him obviously pleased that he had asked him to be his account manager it would be a major status symbol for him.

"Thank you," Alex tells him sincerely as he stands up. Icktin bows him out of his office and asks the guard to show him to the history room. The guard, introduced as Grimtock, bows respectfully to them both and Alex follows behind him after bowing slightly to Icktin.

Grimtock seems surprised by his show of respect and keeps glancing curiously back at him as he leads him through tunnel after tunnel. They move deeper and deeper into the underground labyrinth until finally they come to a set of double doors which are covered in precious metals and gems so that they form the imagine of several dragons standing guard over the doors.

Alex has seen many beautiful goblin works of art but these doors are by far the most magnificent. He takes a moment to admire them before following Grimtock into the vast history room. Shelves upon shelves are filled with books and scrolls of all shapes, sizes, and ages.

Alex simply studies the volume of knowledge in front of him for a moment before turning to Grimtock and asking hesitantly "Is there a system to this or someone to ask for the documents I am looking for?"

"Do not worry someone has already gotten out the requested documents and put them over there," Grimtock tells him gesturing to a solid oak table laden with books and scrolls.

Smiling in gratitude he takes a seat at the table and prepares himself for a long stay.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN:// Sorry this chapter took so long to get out. It was oringally supposed to be longer but I am having trouble with the second part. I just don't like how it turned out. If there is anyone out there who would like to act as my beta I would appreciate it plus the job comes with cookies. (Well not really but still apply.) So enjoy and please remember to REVIEW.


End file.
